


Flame Imperishable

by litbynosun



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Jewish Character, F/M, Gen, Holidays, M/M, Rated T for Taako's Mouth, TAZ Candlenights Exchange
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22276990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litbynosun/pseuds/litbynosun
Summary: Angus, his family, and candles in the dark of winter.
Relationships: Angus McDonald & Everyone, Barry Bluejeans & Kravitz & Lup, Barry Bluejeans/Lup, Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 43
Collections: The Candlenights Zone (2019 Exchange)





	1. Ice Lanterns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fandomsnstuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomsnstuff/gifts).



> This is a Candlenights exchange fic for fandomsandstuff, who asked for: "soft, fluff, found family, blupjeans, taakitz, angus (& his relationship with the birds and co.), reaper squad, the twins, barry and taako being best friends, thb being best friends, lup and magnus being best friends, cuddles. Candlenights/Christmas themed? I'm pretty easy to please." I hope you enjoy it!  
> Title is a Tolkien reference, because of course.

Angus was in the middle of making a batch of soft pretzels, a brush covered in egg whites in one hand and a pinch of sea salt in the other, when the front door opened. Only one person in his family regularly used doors to enter the house, but Angus strained his ears for footsteps and was rewarded by a quick, slightly uneven patter along the wood floor.

He did a quick scan of the kitchen to make certain he was committing no visible food crimes, and gave the latest pretzel a neat twist before laying it down on the baking tray.

He got the tray slid into the oven just as Taako entered the kitchen. He was fidgeting with his replacement umbrastaff, flipping it over and over in his hands, and spun it in a neat circle when he saw Angus.

“Hi, bubbeleh,” he said. “Ooh, pretzels.”

He had taken off his boots, but there was mud splattered up his back and a solid line of dirt up to his calves. His eyelashes and eyebrows held drops of water, presumably melting after having been iced over from his breath.

“Hi, Taako,” Angus replied. “How was your adventure? Mr. Magnus and Mr. Merle doing well?”

“Boring,” Taako said, washing his hands in the sink and then poking at Angus’s empty bowl of dough. “They’re doing whatever they’ve been doing, like making one thousand wooden ducks. We killed some stuff, it was rad, but mostly just talked scheduling. Merle says Mavis says to text her back.”

“I _would_ like to know scheduling,” Angus told him. “I need to write it in my calendar. And I’ll text her.”

“Nerd,” Taako drawled. “Anyway, here’s the deal. Since Candlenights is during Chanukah this year, we have to coordinate with Merle, but I am not spending any more time than I have to in his terrible house. We’re spending a day there for the bush, tomorrow, and then a day for the presents, and everything else will be at home. Sound good?”

Angus nodded, and slid the pretzel tray into the stove, lingering briefly over the open racks to feel the heat of the oven on his face.

“Why fancy snacks? What’s the occasion?”

“My friends and I are going to a moving picture,” Angus said. “I’m going to sneak the pretzels in so we don’t have to buy food there.”

“Hell yeah,” said Taako. “ _Fuck_ overpriced concessions, am I right.”

“You’re one of the richest people in the world,” Angus replied, “You can afford some concessions. But yes, you are right.”

“You gonna add the garlic salt?”

“No,” said Angus. “Not everyone likes garlic as much as you do.”

Taako flipped him off, and Angus stuck his tongue out, set the timer, and hopped up on the counter, swinging his feet slightly. Taako pulled a pomegranate out of the fridge and sat at the table with it and his favorite paring knife and a small bowl. He poked listlessly at the piles of textbooks Angus had dumped on the table when he’d gotten home from school.

Barry wandered into the kitchen as they settled, and they watched him in silence as he pulled almond milk out of the icebox and granola from the cabinets. He was muttering to himself vaguely as he did so; Angus was not entirely certain he knew they were there.

Taako leafed idly through one of Angus’s textbooks, his fingers flying as he pried out seeds and dropped them either into the bowl clutched between his knees or into his mouth. Angus hummed a light little tune and watched him go; Taako’s fingers and mouth were stained red with fruit juice, and Angus worried about the state of the pages. Barry settled into a chair.

It was quiet and still.

“This is _bullshit,_ ” Taako announced, waving Angus's text. “This whole book. Ango, pumpkin, why’re you reading this? It belongs in the garbage.”

Angus should have known it wouldn’t last. Barry looked up from his food.

“Well, it’s assigned reading for my Crystalline Resonance class, so unfortunately you can’t throw it out,” Angus responded.

"Ugh, why are you taking that class?" Taako groaned.

Angus clasped his his hands in front of his chest and smiled as sweetly as he could."Well you see, sir,” he said. “I'm a _very_ precocious young man."

"That's not what I meant and you know it, kiddo," Taako replied. "I meant that's a hideous class."

"Don't you have a PhD in a closely related field?" asked Barry, tapping his spoon on his cereal bowl. "I seem to remember your thesis involved --"

“Ch’yeah, it did,” Taako said, “Doesn’t mean the class is good. How do you think I know this book sucks, huh?”

The timer for the oven beeped, and Angus turned to put mitts on his hands and pull the pretzels out, ignoring Taako for now. He knew that soon he would probably find two or three carefully selected books on his dresser, which Taako would immediately deny knowledge of. But that would come later.

“I’m going to let these cool while I get dressed,” he said. “I’ll be back down soon.”

He left them sitting there, eating fruit, the alpenglow in the distance fading with the sunlight.

The next day, as scheduled, they all bundled up and went to Merlegaritaville by way of rifts, where at least fifteen members of Angus’s extended family milled around the edge of the nearby forest. Merle had a collection of outdoor sporting gear that he rented to his campers, and he’d plundered the stash for skis and snowshoes for everyone. 

Angus made a beeline over to Mavis, who waved madly at him when she saw him, and braced his feet so that Mookie's greeting (a firm headbutt to the lower ribs) didn't knock him off his feet. Mavis’s beard had started coming in more thickly, and she was very proud of it; Angus made admiring noises as the whole group coalesced into a vague approximation of a party and then headed out into the wilderness for a bush.

Merle’s personal gardens were lush, but so was the nature around his home. It was possible everything for miles around was, in some way, Merle’s garden. The snow was deep and some of the shorter people struggled through the drifts, including Mookie, who latched himself onto Killian’s leg at the first opportunity and eventually ended up climbing her like a boulder to perch on her shoulders. Angus, who had begun shooting up like a weed recently and was still not quite sure how long his limbs were, ended up somewhere in the middle of the mob. It didn’t matter. It was well known that Merle was the one who ultimately chose the Candlenights bush, while everyone else always milled around in cheerful chaos.

The woods had that particular snowy hush, the light glinting off the trees and turning everything bright. The drifts dampened the noise and chatter. Angus listened to the snow crunch beneath his boots. The cold air pricked his throat and chest as he breathed hard from the exertion.

They walked for at least an hour. Every minute or so a bush was inspected and deemed wanting. They managed to amuse themselves in the meantime, though. Several snowball fights broke out. Magnus shook a tree and laughed when the snow collected on its branches fell onto his and Carey’s heads. Mookie took Killian’s hat off and braided her hair into wild styles. Carey had practically disappeared into Magnus’s coat; he had ordered her to put her cold feet in his armpits to warm them up, and she ended up clinging to him like a limpet as they hiked. They looked like a friendly chimera. Privately, Angus gave thanks that he was warm-blooded and could shiver.

He blew out a big cloud of condensation on his next exhale, and Mavis blew one back at him, and they went back and forth like that until they both had frozen icicles hanging from their noses.

Taako had started the day with his arm looped through Kravitz's, but as they kept walking he leaned more and more heavily on him, bad leg stiffening with cold and overuse. His mouth was a thin flat line.Angus made several bets with himself about how long it would take him to say something. The rewards for each level were snacks.

He won a mug of candy cane hot chocolate off himself when Taako snapped after five more minutes.

"Just pick a goddamn bush, Merle!" He yelled. "They all look exactly the same!"

"We're looking for one full of love!" Merle yelled back.

Merle did not cut down his Candlenights bushes. Instead he had them dug up, and then potted them, and replanted them in the spring. He made Lup warm the frozen soil and Magnus do the digging.

Angus wasn’t sure what he’d done with his bushes during the Lonely Decade, but he wouldn’t put it past Merle to keep a chopped-down bush alive through sheer stubbornness.

“It’s a bush!” Taako replied. “They all have the exact same amount of love!”

Merle’s single eye watered. “You’re right,” he sniffed. “I’m so sorry. They’re all full of love.”

He stroked his beard thoughtfully and then waddled off, with purpose, back the way they’d come.

Magnus bounded after him, Lup hot on his heels.

The swarm of people that was Angus’s family followed.

* * *

None of them were hungry enough for a full dinner after snacks at Merle’s, so instead Angus and his family stepped neatly through their portal and immediately made preparations to hunker down in the living room for the rest of the evening. There was a nesting joke somewhere in the gathering of blankets and snacks, but Angus didn’t care enough to make it.

They each made preparations in their own way. Kravitz went to click the radio on. He made noise pretty much constantly, and Angus was almost certain that he didn’t realize it. He hummed or tapped a finger when thinking, and always danced to music, or at the very least tapped a finger and swayed. He threw his whole body into the listening. When Lup headed back to the couch after putting more wood in the fireplace, she did a little shimmy together with him to the bouncy beat, and he took her hands. They gave a twirl in their stocking feet like they were ballroom dancers. It made Angus smile.

“I’ll never understand your music dislikes and I refuse to try,” Lup told Kravitz. “But you do have good taste.”

“I don’t understand how you like Stravinsky, either,” Kravitz replied. “Fantasy Fall Out Boy at least has a solid melody.”

“None of that newfangled dissonance, huh bud?” Barry said.

“Exactly,” Kravitz nodded. “Simple.”

“No!” Lup said. "Not simple! Why do you like fantasy punk and hate music from someone who died a century ago? That's longer than most humans live, Kravitz. It's not _newfangled._ ”

"It's like -- remember when Taako made rhubarb crumble, and used garlic ginger paste instead of just ginger paste? And it was gross? But the garlic ginger is good in other dishes. It's like that."

“It wasn’t gross,” Taako said, looking up from his own work. “It was _avante garde._ I’m an _innovator._ You’re just rude. Shut up about my cooking, I’m reading.”

The crumble _had_ been gross. Taako had eaten it anyway.

Angus finished making himself the hot chocolate he’d won earlier and curled up on the couch next to Taako so he could read over his shoulder. Taako shifted to let him see, but didn’t look at him. Angus recognized it as a draft for someone's PhD thesis. Some parts were beyond him; he was young still, after all, lower level, and his refusal to specialize meant sometimes his knowledge was more broad then specific. But he liked watching Taako's pen make ruthless edits. Sometimes he pointed out grammar mistakes before Taako could get to them.

The others all clustered around a book as well; something for their work, Angus thought, based on their topics of discussion. As the fire burned lower, they expanded their discussion from necromantic behavior to necromantic style. Apparently, most necromancers cared a lot about aesthetics and fashion, and there had recently been a shift in what was considered fashionable.

“Does Mavis seem a little goth to you?” Taako asked them, when they started into a discussion of hair dye. “You think she’s interested, or is it a phase?”

"It's probably just a developmental stage thing," Lup said. "Early adolescence is the _worst_. I was really into clowns when we were in our forties and fifties, remember, Ko? It's like you hit puberty and your brain picks a way to make you a nerd."

Taako groaned. "The clown thing was awful. We worked for a circus, Lup. We knew _real clowns._ They were just regular people."

"But they were _cool_ regular people," Lup said. "Did you know they don't drink or swear while in character? Part of the Clown Code."

The skeptical noise Taako made at her could have withered a redwood in the moistest of rainforests.

“ _Sexy_ regular people,” Lup continued, warming to her topic. "The inherent eroticism of exaggeration and physical comedy… the pleasing aesthetics of large red noses…”

“Aunt Lup,” Angus sighed.

Taako turned to him. “Hey, Ango, wanna hear a fun fact?”

“Well—” Angus started, but Taako cut him off, pulling him close.

“Of course you do. Did you know that sometimes two zygotes are formed but it ends up being a single birth? It’s called Vanishing Twin syndrome, and the survivor absorbs the deceased. Isn’t that fascinating?”

“That’s not a fun fact, sir,” Angus said. “Please don’t use me to threaten your sister, even if what she just said is a criminal crime.”

“Also, clearly I am the stronger twin,” Lup said, flipping her braid. “It is _you_ who would be absorbed.”

Taako showed her his communication finger, using the arm he had wrapped around Angus’s shoulders. Kravitz and Barry laughed.

Angus did, too.

Angus didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep, but when he woke up he kept his eyes closed and his body still. Someone had rearranged his position; he felt Taako’s legs shift under his head every so often.He really had genuinely fallen asleep, but it was nice to lay still and keep his breathing calm and listen to the conversations the adults held over his head. His family didn’t underestimate him, but they did tend to coddle him slightly. They wouldn’t expect him to be listening in.

It wasn’t anything secret, but it was nice to hear plans being made.

“We’ll have latkes tomorrow, Koko, you did the cooking today anyway. I’ll teach Ango. It’ll be fun.”

Then, presumably in response to a questioning look, “We learned that splitting the work is best early on, so we specialized. Taako makes donuts, I do potatoes. Same thing every year.”

“Usually specialized. We always used to switch off who asked the Passover questions, because we don’t know who’s younger,” Taako’s voice added.

Taako’s lap was soft, and Angus took no small amount of pride in getting Taako to be so openly affectionate when other people were present.

He sneezed, but kept his eyes closed. The conversation died down as everyone tried very hard to tell whether or not that had woken him up. Angus let himself fall back asleep.

He woke again when footsteps approached the couch and someone pressed a kiss to his forehead and smoothed his hair back. It was Lup; Angus could feel the tacky blot of lipstick on his face, a braid falling and brushing his forearm. He opened his eyes to see her stepping away into a gray void, her dark cloak forming around her as she went.

“Does Aunt Lup have to work?” Angus asked, kind of muzzy.

Taako levered him up from his lap.

“Yeah, Bird Mom said it was urgent,” he said. "C'mon, boychik, you should go to bed. Lup's gone and I don't want to deal with _that,_ so you're gonna have to walk."

He waved a hand at the other couch. Barry was asleep sitting up, his chin nodding forwards on his chest. Kravitz was draped sideways over his lap, also sleeping, but his neck was at an angle Angus had only ever seen in people with broken cervical spines.

As they watched, Barry twitched and then resettled. His eyes were half-lidded, and Angus could see them darting back and forth as he dreamed. Kravitz, jostled, slid further sideways, the angle of his head growing more extreme.

"Yikes," said Angus, through a yawn. There was really nothing else to add.

He let Taako herd him upstairs. Outside his window the snow built up in drifts, and candle fire flickered in the ice lanterns spread across their front yard.


	2. Angus, and Angus's Kin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angus engages in several more holiday activities.

Lup commandeered Angus’s entire afternoon for cooking lessons. Angus thought she seemed unusually excited to cook with him. She tended to go overboard with both spice and sweetness; on Rosh Hashana the honey cakes she had made were so sweet Angus’s teeth ached after just a few bites, which probably symbolized something. But latkes were neither, and Angus was excited too.  
She left him a handwritten list of ingredients; he stacked everything round (potatoes, onions, apples) in a bowl, for the fun of it. Both Lup and Taako tended to make him do all the prep work — Taako claimed it was important to remind him who was in charge, and Lup just said it was good practice and she didn’t need any anymore.  
He dug out the good frying pan and the cheese grater, as well as the potato peeler, and washed everything that needed to be washed, all before Lup came whirling into the room and beamed when she saw him.  
“Sorry I was late, babe,” she said, handing him an apron as she tied one around her own waist. “Got caught up in a presents discussion, because my brother is a menace.”  
“Oh, it’s no problem, Aunt Lup!” Angus said. “Is there anything I should know about? I have completed most of my shopping, but I don’t want to miss anything important.”  
“Nah, pumpkin, any gift from you would be a good one,” Lup said. “It’s better you weren’t there. Taako asked Krav what sort of present he wanted, and Krav said 'I vant to touch your butt!’”— here she took on a stereotypical vampire accent, wriggling her fingers in the air — “So I left in a hurry. You all set with prep?”   
"Not yet, but I'll start the oil," Angus said, starting over to the stove.   
Lup stopped him. "Ah ah ah!" She said. "You haven't cut any onions or potatoes yet. If you learn nothing else from me, know this; don't start the oil before you finish prep work."  
“Yes, ma’am!” Angus said.  
“I mean it, this is the most important cooking lesson you’ll ever learn.”  
"That’s it? That's the most important?" Angus asked.  
Lup handed him a knife and a potato. “One hundo percent,” she said. “Get goin, pumpkin, we’ve got a lot of knife work to do.”  
He got going.  
They filled the compost bin up to heaping with potato and apple skins. Lup peeled many of them in almost a full single curl, but not quite; in this as in everything, she didn’t quite have Taako’s precision.   
When Angus scraped all the chunked apples into the big pot to soften into applesauce, Lup patted his shoulder in thanks.  
“You having fun, kiddo? You excited to eat these?”  
“Very much, Aunt Lup!” Angus piped. “My grandpa never cooked. He was too old, so I missed out on a lot of traditional foods.”  
“I’m glad,” Lup sighed.   
She julienned the potatoes with a flourish.  
“If I may,” Angus started, “Is this important to you?”  
“It is," she said. "My auntie taught me this, and my grandma taught it to her, which means—” Lup looked Angus in the eyes, her face serious. “I’m passing it on to you. It’s your duty now. Find a kid in thirty years and teach ‘em.”  
“I will,” Angus said. He stirred the applesauce with the potato masher. Lup flicked the brim of his hat affectionately, and with a pat on his head reached for her small knife again.  
“It’s tradition,” she told him. “This is important, Ango. You’re continuing the work of generations.”  
Talking to Lup about emotional subjects was much easier than talking to Taako; Lup had a lot of love and kindness to give, and she radiated that with every energetic word she spoke. But she was also a lich, a fact that involved a certain amount of emotional repression; while she had not been as affected by the realities of her magical form as Barry, her years spent controlling her emotions so as to maintain sentience were difficult to break.  
“Easier to talk to than Taako,” was, unfortunately, quite the low bar.   
But this subject was important, and here his self-proclaimed aunt was, freely offering this glimpse into her heart.  
“You really loved your aunt, didn’t you,” Angus said.  
“I did,” Lup said. “She cared about us, in a way no-one else did, and it was… nice. A respite.”  
“Is that why you told me to call you ‘aunt’ when we had just met?” Angus asked, cautious.  
Lup tapped the handle of her wooden spoon on her chin.  
“I mean, half of it was to get Taako’s goat,” she said. “But yes. And I thought I knew you quite well by then, kiddo, my nibling decision was made with full knowledge of what I was getting myself into.”  
Angus laughed. It was a little weird knowing she’d been watching him for months, and he’d had absolutely no idea.  
“I guess I knew a lot about you too,” he said. “I’m glad.”  
She put her potato and knife down and hugged him, and he buried his face in her hair. She was squishy-soft and warm, her clothes scented with molasses, which in Angus's humble opinion were classic aunt traits. She also crackled with the electric ozone of powerful magic, which was perhaps less traditional, but he wouldn’t have expected anything less from her.   
“Thank you for teaching me, Auntie,” he said.  
“Of course, boychik,” Lup said. She gave him one final squeeze and pulled away to ruffle his hair.  
“Let’s get sizzlin’.”

* * *

On the second day of Chanukah, Kravitz knocked gently on Angus’s door. Angus was lying on his bed, using a spellbook as a desk while he wrote a letter to Jimmy; they exchanged cards and other mail throughout the year, but Angus always upped the number he sent around December, just to be safe.   
“Are you busy?” he asked, poking his head in through Angus’ door. The curved wooden stick holding his hair back in a bun shimmered in the light.  
“Yes, but I can put it down,” Angus said, finishing his sentence and then capping his pen neatly. “What do you need?”  
“I haven’t shopped for presents in… too long, and while I’ve gone shopping with Taako it was, quite frankly, a terrifying experience. Will you come with me? I know you’re nosy, but you can get your Candlenights shopping done, too. It’ll be quite efficient.”  
“Sure,” said Angus. "I’ve done all mine, but I can be bribed with food. But why didn't you ask someone else, if I'm nosy?"  
"Well, I thought you probably knew what people wanted," Kravitz said, "But also, Taako's equally nosy and he'd criticize my picks, Lup would tease me for asking for help, and Barry would tell Lup he went with me. You were really the best choice. And, honestly, I just need the company.”  
“It _is_ kind of funny that you’re scared of shopping,” Angus told him, starting to pack up his books.  
"Living people are just so…" Kravitz paused and cocked his head to the side in that distinctive birdlike motion he had, clearly thinking, "vivacious."  
"Vivacious? From _vivere,_ 'to live'?"  
Kravitz laughed. “Yes, yes, maybe that was the wrong word. Bright. I’m not used to it.”  
Angus settled his hat firmly on his head and knotted his scarf around his neck, swinging his backpack over his shoulders.  
“I’m ready!” he said.   
When they stepped neatly out of a tear through reality into the bustling street of Neverwinter’s shopping district, the light and bustle were too much of a shift from their quiet dark home; Angus had to squeeze his eyes tight together to recalibrate. When he cautiously cracked an eye open to peek around, he saw that Kravitz was doing the same thing, mouth pursed tight.   
Out of all his family, Kravitz was the one most like Angus in needing quiet dim places to retreat to. Angus didn't know if this was inherent or if it was simply habit from spending so long in the hushed dimness of the Astral Plane; he had considered asking but suspected that Kravitz himself didn't know, and more than likely would find the question meaningless.  
Angus tugged his sleeve.  
“There’s a particularly nice store over this way,” he said.”Aunt Lup complimented their book selection.”  
“High praise!” Kravitz said and offered Angus his arm like they were going on a promenade.  
Angus took it and steered him to the correct store.

They ended up moving from store to store, hitting about five and finding presents in two. Kravitz determinedly tried to conceal his purchases from Angus, who made a production about looking away and not paying attention. It was easy to guess what he’d bought, anyway. Not seeing the transaction happen just made things more exciting.  
Eventually, they moved on to one of the nicer Neverwinter boutiques, one Taako had definitely purchased Angus’s own Candlenights present from. Angus headed over to the scarves and rubbed his fingers over them, feeling the difference between the warm, scratchy wool, the soft cotton, and the smooth silk.  
He turned around at the sound of a shriek. A group of teenagers was moving away very quickly from Kravitz, his hat clutched in the hand of one in a very nice peacoat.   
Kravitz himself looked like he was still processing what had happened.  
"I'm so sorry, oh Pelor, I thought you were a mannequin I swear, oh I'm so embarrassed," said the teen in the peacoat, in a big rush.  
"It's fine," Kravitz said, robotic.  
There was an awkward pause.  
"May I have my hat back?"   
They handed it over, and Kravitz clutched it gently in his hands, looking rather shell-shocked.  
 _“I’m so humiliated,”_ hissed the peacoat teen as their friends escorted them away.  
“That scared the shit out of me,” one of their friends exclaimed.  
Angus clapped his hands over his mouth to keep from laughing.   
“Did you forget to breathe?” he asked when the teens were gone.  
“Yes,” said Kravitz, slightly abashed. “I don’t blame them. But also that was one of the worst experiences of my afterlife, hunger goop included.”  
He put his hat back on with a flourish.  
“Maybe you should be a mime,” Angus said. “Or one of those artists who paint themselves all gold, and pretend to be a statue.”  
“Earn pocket money, I see,” Kravitz said. “And am I not to use my musical talents in these performances? No busking?”  
Angus hummed. “There used to be automatons that could write and draw. You could be an automaton that plays the organ! Or a hurdy-gurdy, I believe those are popular.”  
Kravitz mimed playing the accordion, and Angus held his hands up by his mouth to blow a tune on an invisible flute.  
“I could buy Barry a celestina for Candlenights,” Kravitz said. “Is that an appropriate gift? I don’t know what’s… too much.”  
“I’ve been wondering about that,” Angus mused. “You don’t seem to participate much in holiday things. Do you not know how anymore?”  
"We didn't have Chanukah when I was a kid," Kravitz said. "So… not really, no."  
Angus digested this. Kravitz had said "didn't have," not "didn't celebrate," which meant…   
"Mr. Kravitz," he said, trying to process the sudden understanding he'd gained of time scales, "Are you _older_ than Chanukah?"  
"I don't know," Kravitz hummed. "We're both a little more than two thousand, and traditions take a while to develop. I could be."   
Angus had to sit with this for a little while. While he had known in general terms how long Kravitz had existed (Lup had told him that she once asked the Raven Queen how old Kravitz was, and the goddess had replied "more than a hundred lifetimes;" Angus liked this a lot and had always thought it was quite poetic) and had gently corrected extremely outdated scientific information, there was something so different between the vague idea of thousands of years and actually being confronted with an event he had always conceptualized as belonging to the very distant past.  
Kravitz seemed unaware of Angus’s mild existential crisis, shielding his eyes from the sun glinting off of the snow and peering forwards.   
“Oh, I think that new crepe shop has finally opened,” he said, tugging Angus’s elbow slightly. “Want a snack? Taako’d murder me if I didn’t feed you.”  
“Will you buy me a coffee?” Angus asked. “I’d like to try a mocha.”  
Kravitz narrowed his eyes at him. “I thought Taako said you were too young for coffee.”  
“And _I_ thought buying me food was supposed to be a bribe, for my assistance in this matter.”  
“Hrm,” Kravitz said.  
“Taako’s not the boss of you,” Angus tried.   
“Well, all right,” Kravitz said. “But I’m telling him it’s your fault if he asks.”  
“Deal,” said Angus, and they shook on it.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's three parts now, because I'm slow.  
> Also, me, putting quotes from the podcast into the mouth of the raven queen? It's more likely than you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Part two will hopefully be out soon. Happy late holidays to all!  
> Find me on Tumblr and Pillowfort @coldwind-shiningstars.


End file.
